It was going on 8 in the morning when I heard my phone buzz on the kitchen table, as I was getting ready for work. The message was from my friend in New York, and nothing but this image.
“Michael Bolton needs you.” We both had a good laugh at the email she received, and then moved on with our respective days.
Then, Monday night, my phone buzzed again with this picture message from my friend:
Mr. Bolton was getting persistent, giving “How Am I Supposed To Live Without You?” a whole new meaning.
Yes, “celebrities” have access to our email, which seems a little unfair considering they’re always demanding privacy. Last summer, I had Sarah Jessica Parker emailing me about the Obama campaign, acting like we were besties that chatted about men over Cosmopolitans together.
She ended the email with, “It should be fabulous.” How very Carrie Bradshaw.
But there was a catch. Yes, I was invited. . .as long as I donated money to the Obama campaign. What was all of this “fabulous” talk? Carrie would have never done that to Charlotte, Samantha, or Miranda!
The funny thing is if we “norms” (you know celebrities call us that) were to try to email these famous personalities, we’d probably get a big fat cease and desist letter. Yet, they can send us emails pleading for money. Or just telling us unnecessary tidbits about their life, like this one I received from Mark Cuban via LinkedIn, which seemed a little invasive:
So, please, celebrities—can it. Otherwise, I’m going to start forwarding these emails to TMZ.
I get messages from Robert Redford, which is great. He’s my generation’s idea of a hot guy, even if he is now older than I am.
When a dude messages about a colonoscopy it’s best to leave out the cigar, methinks.
On the one hand, I understand your point. But on the other, how can you leave poor Michael Bolton just hanging like that? He needs you, Megan. He needs you.
HAHAHA! We never found out what he wanted.